


meet teeth and tongue

by andchaos



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pet Names, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 15:19:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18013382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andchaos/pseuds/andchaos
Summary: Dennis tapped him on the waist and said, “Okay, honey, let’s go.”Mac mumbled, “Yeah,” and they both got one step forward before freezing. Dennis looked over at him, his eyes wide.-He was usually good at not being so obvious about it when they weren't alone, but he still slipped up sometimes.





	meet teeth and tongue

**Author's Note:**

> queen rose asked: do u think dennis uses pet names 4 mac when theyre alone and if so do u think he ever slips up and calls him smth dumb and gay and soft at the bar in front of everyone and him and mac both just Freeze
> 
> and i said: i sure fucking do, every day of my life

“Get me a beer, Dee.”

“You know what? That’s a good idea, Dennis. Get me one too.”

“Wh — No! I’m not getting you guys beer,” Dee spat.

“But…” Dennis glanced at Mac. “But you’re the waitress.”

“Yeah!” Mac said, nodding vigorously. “You’re our waitress and means you’re like, our bitch! You’ve gotta do whatever we say.”

“First of all, that’s not what a waitress is, dickwads,” Dee said, brandishing a finger in Dennis’s face. He swayed away from her, trying to keep her in focus. “Second of all, I’m not doing shit for you until we get this whole contract mess sorted out.”

“So what,” Dennis snorted. “You’re on strike or something now?”

He shared another glance with Mac, who snickered along with him right on cue. They were always on the same page with each other these days, and had been for a while now. Dennis fucking loved it; he had a built-in sidekick, for one thing, and it also meant that Mac was just as keen on rarely ever leaving the seat right next to his if either of them could help it. Also, he always had somebody guaranteed to be on his side against his sister whenever he needed them.

Dee, meanwhile, was lighting up into a grin on the other side of the bar.

“Yes,” she said, “I’m on strike. Unless…Either of you want to give in and sign a new contract giving me back the rights to all the Paddy’s merchandising? And maybe a thirty percent raise?”

Dennis looked at Mac, who was already bursting into laughter at her, leaning over the bar to really get in her face about it. Dennis chuckled along with him, turning back in time to see Dee raise her eyebrows loftily.

“Fine,” she said, and she picked up the beer she was drinking herself and moved out from behind the bar, drifting over toward where Charlie was messing with an electrical socket instead.

Dennis shrugged. Mac muttered, “We don’t need that bitch,” and with a grunt hauled himself over the counter. His feet never left the bottom rungs of his stool.

Dennis didn’t so much catch himself swaying to cop a better glimpse at Mac’s ass in full display over the side of the bar so much as he actively stared after him hungrily. It was _not_ a big deal. So he liked to remind himself of what he already got to touch, so what? Dennis had always liked to take stock of what was his, ever since he could remember.

Mac jolted forward unsteadily, and Dennis instinctively lashed out to grab him by the back of his pants to stop him from tumbling headfirst over the other side.

“Help me back! Help me back!” Mac gasped, and Dennis yanked on him until he fell back onto the barstool beside him. He rolled his eyes, patting Mac on the shoulder, and with a triumphant smile Mac uncapped one of the retrieved beers and set it down right in front of him. “See, like I told you: We don’t need that bitch.”

“We never have,” Dennis agreed.

They sat there drinking beers side by side in relative silence for a while, until from the other side of the room Charlie yelped and they turned around in time to catch him jerking his arm back from the electrical socket. Dee and Frank looked up, too, from the booth where they were chatting.

“Hey uh, guys?” said Charlie, glancing around at them all. “This is proving a little harder than I thought. Um…could one of you make a run to the store for some stuff I need?”

“Frank can do it,” Dennis said immediately.

“Great,” said Charlie. “I need somebody else to go online and look at the Youtube video for this again. I’m really — I’m forgetting what the tattooed dude said to do next, and—”

“Never mind, Frank can do _that_ ,” said Mac. He slapped Dennis’s arm with the back of his hand. “Dennis and I will go to the hardware store.”

Dennis turned toward him. He thought he was entitled to feel a little bit betrayed.

“What are you doing?” asked Dennis, his eyes wide.

“Dude, whoever looks at the video is gonna be stuck walking him through it for _hours_ ,” Mac said in an undertone. “If we just pop over to the store real quick, we can be in and out in fifteen minutes.”

“Oh yeah,” said Dennis. Louder, he called to Charlie, “Yeah, we’ll hit the store.”

“Good,” said Frank. “Me and Deandra can work out the video. I don’t want to go all the way to midtown anyway, my bunions are acting up in this rain.”

He stuck his feet out of the booth, and for some reason that Dennis assumed made sense to Frank and Frank alone, he wasn’t wearing any shoes. Frank curled his toes a few times, hissing in pain; Dennis’s lip curled back over his teeth. Absolutely disgusting.

“Oh, shit. It’s raining?” Mac sounded plaintive, glancing toward the window.

“Oh, yeah,” said Dee. “It’s pretty bad out there.”

“Shit,” Mac complained. He stared at the door for a couple of more seconds before smacking at Dennis’s thigh. “Okay, no big deal. I stashed some jackets in your car a few months ago ‘cause you’re always freezing.”

“I — Really?” Dennis tore his eyes away from Frank.

“Yeah, dude,” said Mac. He split into a soft smile.

The others were already rustling around, getting themselves together to help Charlie with their parts of the mini operation. Dennis and Mac just looked at each other quietly for a long moment, both of them still smiling.

“Come on, assholes,” Dee called. “Watching a video won’t mean shit if you don’t bring us all the parts we need.”

“Right,” said Dennis. He shook his head. “Right. Uh — Mac? Can you pop out to the car and grab us those jackets?”

“Aw, man. Really?”

“Well, there’s no sense in both of us getting soaked,” said Dennis.

He made sure to hit Mac with those wide eyes that he couldn’t seem to say no to, just in case he needed some extra persuasion. It must have worked, because after a short standoff Mac rolled his eyes, finished his beer, and headed out the back door toward where Dennis had parked this morning.

He was back in under a minute. His wet hair stuck to his forehead and he looked slightly pissed, but he was holding two coats over his arm and he wasn’t so damp that Dennis thought he’d catch cold during the brief stint outside. One of the coats was pretty thick too, good for the winter. It wouldn’t be totally effective against the rain, but it would be better than nothing — Dennis grabbed that one and slid his arms through it smugly.

“Thanks,” he said, while Mac shook his head, muttering, “Yeah, yeah.” Dennis waited just long enough for Mac to have time to shrug the other coat on, then he tapped him on the waist and said, “Okay, honey, let’s go.”

Mac mumbled, “Yeah,” and they both got one step forward before freezing. Dennis looked over at him, eyes wide. He opened his mouth to course-correct — to say just about anything, because even a poor excuse would sound better than letting something like that lie as it had come out — but then Mac glanced over his shoulder at the others. Dennis followed his gaze, wincing already.

Except that none of the others were paying them any attention. Charlie was still crouched next to the socket, playing tug-of-war with Frank over a screwdriver, and Dee was standing nearby with her hands on her hips, yelling at them to listen to her. Dennis swallowed whatever rambling amendment he was going to fumble up just as Mac’s hand found its way to Dennis’s elbow, pulling him forward toward the front door. Dennis shrunk a little further into his coat and started after him.

“Nice one,” Mac muttered.

“Shut the fuck up,” Dennis said.

Mac snorted. But as he released Dennis’s elbow, his hand trailed its way down his arm and, for just a second before letting go, he caught Dennis’s hand and squeezed.

 

Neither of them mentioned it again, except for the brief moment later that night when they were making out on the couch and Dennis suggested that they bring it into his bedroom. Mac tugged his hair and smirked.

“Whatever you want, _honey_ ,” he said.

It took him a second. Mac laughed into Dennis’s mouth when Dennis jabbed him hard in the thigh for retribution.

Dennis thought about isolating Mac to his own bedroom for once, but by the time he got to his room and had a hand on the doorknob to lock it, Mac was already there wrapping his arms around his waist and nuzzling into the back of his shoulder. Dennis decided, apropos of nothing, to show him some mercy after all.

And Mac said he didn’t know how to play nice.

 

By morning the problem with the electrical socket had multiplied one thousandfold, and Dennis put the blame squarely on everybody else’s shoulders. What had begun with a minor flickering light in the women’s room — which, as Mac had pointed out, didn’t matter because nobody _used_ the women’s bathroom — had escalated to one of the main lights in the bar blowing out, and try as he might, Charlie did not seem able to work out where the two wires had quite literally crossed.

Mac went in early to read Charlie the manual, but Dennis stopped at Dunkin for some coffee first. The line was moderately long, but he was already almost at the front of it.

His phone buzzed in his jacket pocket. Again.

“Hey Mac,” he said, without bothering to check the caller ID. “This is the third time you’ve called me. Why are you calling me again?”

“I just remembered,” Mac said, rushed and loud. “I forgot to tell you to ask them for—”

“Whipped cream, yes, I know.” Dennis rolled his eyes. “You’ve called to give me your order a billion times already, man. And by the way, you didn’t even have to do it the first time. I know how you like your coffee, alright? We’ve been roommates for over a decade.”

“Oh,” said Mac. “Um…You remember the caramel twist, right?”

“Yes, a swirl, I’ve got it,” said Dennis. “Iced. Two sugars on top of that because you’re a godless heathen. I know. I remember.”

In front of him, the line edged up a little. There were only a couple of people left before him now. Normally Dennis might have entertained the idea of cutting to the front, but he wasn’t really in any rush. The only thing waiting for him at the bar was electrical work.

“I’m just making sure,” Mac said defensively. “Remember when you forgot to tell them to leave room for milk and cream?”

“That was one time,” Dennis laughed. “One time and it was like, five years ago, dude. You’ve got to get over it.”

“I will not get over it, Dennis, because you said you never mess up my order but you were wrong,” Mac said in his special stubborn voice that he saved for moments like these, when he felt that being right was the most important thing in the whole world, especially if it was only on a technicality.

“Ooh, I brought you the wrong coffee one time in fifteen years,” Dennis said, waving his free hand around. Mac couldn’t see him, but he felt better for emphasizing the sarcasm. “You might as well kick me out and drop me as a friend right now! And by the way, I drank that disgusting coffee down until there was enough room for you to add your milk or whatever, so I don’t see what you’re complaining about.”

“I’m not complaining!” said Mac.

The one guy left in front of him stepped up to the counter. Dennis tuned out Mac continuing to rant about Dennis’s past egregious caffeine-based mistakes. The barista told the guy to reswipe his card. The machine reader declined it, again.

“Have you and Charlie fixed the electrical yet?” Dennis interrupted him.

“—so really, I _still_ haven’t forgiven you for the — What? Oh, no. That’s still broken as shit,” Mac assured him. “We got bored with that and decided to let Frank pay someone off for it. We’re playing pool now. Well, we _were_ playing pool, but Charlie went to order us lunch.”

“Where from?”

“Don’t worry, bro, I already told him what to get you,” said Mac. “Hey, are you gonna be coming in soon?”

“Maybe, if this line ever hurries the fuck up,” said Dennis loudly. The guy in front of him, now adding a breakfast bagel to his order and still apparently too stupid to work out the card machine, turned around to glare. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” said Mac. “I got an idea for something to do today but I need to borrow your car.”

“Absolutely not,” Dennis said. “The last time you ‘borrowed’ my car, you hotwired the shit out of it and stole a diabetic cat. There was cat hair on my upholstery for _weeks_.”

“Hear me out!” said Mac. “Look, here’s my plan—”

The guy finally paid and headed down the counter to wait for his order. The woman behind the register made eye contact with him for about half a second before dropping it and turning to say something to her coworker.

“Whatever. We’ll talk about it when I come in. I gotta go,” said Dennis, glancing up at the bored barista behind the counter. “I — Mac, I — I need to hang up! Stop talking over me! Okay. Okay. Yeah, alright. I’ll be in soon. Yeah. I’ll see you in a bit, sweetheart.”

“Later, bitch.”

Dennis snorted and hung up. He stepped up to the counter, pulling out his wallet at the same time. Unlike _some_ people, he thought, glaring over at the guy who had been holding up the line, he liked efficiency, such as being ready to pay and leave as quickly as possible.

“What can I get ya?” the barista asked.

“Plain black coffee, one sugar,” said Dennis.

The woman punched it into her machine. “Anything else?”

“Uh…Yeah,” said Dennis. Mac had said that the gang was already ordering something to eat, but they had donuts here that were decorated for Halloween and Mac always liked those. He insisted that the orange frosting and the little bat decorations on them tasted better than any other donut they had all year. Dennis rolled his eyes as he added, “That Halloween donut, and an iced coffee with two sugars and a caramel twist for my boyfriend.”

He paused, turning pink. The barista wasn’t looking at him. She was already tapping more things on her machine.

“I mean, um, for my best friend,” he said. “My friend, Mac.”

Jesus Christ, he told himself, nobody fucking cares what his name is. Dennis could feel how hot his cheeks were now. It was one thing saying stuff to Mac on the phone when nobody knew who was on the other line, but it was something else entirely to slip up and call him _that_ to other people. He wasn’t sure if this girl being a total stranger was better or worse than if they’d known her. Maybe he should drive his car into the river on the way home. Or straight into a wall, that would probably be effective too.

“He’s not my — uh — we’re friends,” Dennis rambled on. “I didn’t—”

“Do you want room for milk and cream, sir?” the woman drawled.

Dennis choked off into silence. With his face still a fine rosy color, and his internal monologue verbosely cursing him out, he shut his mouth firmly, and nodded.

 

Mac was laughing, leaning up against the armrest of the couch. Dennis was that shade of red from this morning once more, although this time he was smiling slightly even while his face burned. It was not his fault that Mac sounded kind of nice when he laughed, all loose and happy because of Dennis, even if he _was_ technically laughing at him. Dennis poked at one of the thighs Mac had thrown over his lap.

“Shut up,” said Dennis.

“ _Very_ classy of you to get banned from your fourth coffee shop this year,” said Mac, nodding.

“I did not get banned,” said Dennis testily. “I just said that I’m never, ever going back there. It’s my choice. I could go, I’m just deciding that I no longer want to. Very different from getting banned.”

“No, it’s the same thing,” said Mac. His grin was bright and wide. “That still makes four more coffee shops that I’m not allowed in. Your _reasoning_ doesn’t mean shit.”

Dennis crossed his arms. “Yeah. Whatever,” he muttered.

Mac burst out laughing again. This lasted for quite awhile until he mumbled, “Hey, hey. Come here,” and sat up, scooting closer to him. Dennis wound an arm around his back to pull him in — just to keep him steady, he rationalized. He let Mac kiss him once, softly, on the mouth. Mac pushed a hand back through his hair, his intensity growing, and Dennis decided to relent and kissed him back for real.

He sighed and pushed Mac down onto his back, climbing onto his lap to get at his mouth more easily. Mac encircled his waist with both arms to crush them together as they made out, nice and sweet, for a long while.

Dennis pulled back by a couple of centimeters, trailing a finger down his neck. He flicked a glance up toward Mac, but he was too busy watching Dennis’s mouth to meet his eye.

“Bed?” Dennis asked.

Mac leaned up to capture his lips again, and Dennis melted into him instead. He’d meant to suggest that they actually go to sleep, because it had been a long day and he was tired, but he could see where Mac had gotten confused. This was just as good, anyway. The room was quiet except for the persistent gentle hum from the light beside the couch and the stream of city noises outside that never really stopped but which faded into the background after thirty or so years. Mac’s hands were tracing pleasantly light patterns across his back, and he lost himself for an immeasurable amount of time in the gentle push of Mac’s tongue and the pressure of his fingertips that had crept up beneath his shirt.

“Hey,” said Dennis, pulling away for real after a while even when Mac leaned up to chase his mouth. “Let’s go to bed, I mean it.”

Mac’s fingers tangled in his hair, and his lips found the underside of Dennis’s jaw.

“I don’t wanna.”

Dennis sighed, but not entirely out of exasperation. His sense of logic skated away from him as Mac mouthed against his neck, and he struggled to gather it back. His hands squeezed around Mac’s waist, and Mac smiled.

“Yeah?” Mac breathed.

“I’m…”

Dennis fought to open his eyes. He pulled back out of Mac’s arms, his self-control directly proportional to the space between them and growing rapidly as he swung his legs to the floor. Mac made a little complaining noise, tugging on Dennis’s shirt when he climbed out of his lap. Dennis huffed a laugh, looking down at Mac horizontal on the couch with a pout on his face and his fingers clenched in the hem of his t-shirt. Dennis crossed his arms.

“Come on, baby,” he said, more firmly. “We’ve got to be up early tomorrow.”

He held out a hand. For a second he didn’t think Mac was going to follow him, but then he sighed.

“Fine.”

Dennis pulled him up and squeezed his hand, not letting go. It was only a short walk to Dennis’s room, but whatever. Mac complained about him putting the brakes on things as he trailed after him, and he didn’t let go either. It was no big deal as long they kept it just between themselves.

**Author's Note:**

> me? getting over season 5 even though it's been a decade? as if [xo](http://lesbianfreyja.tumblr.com/post/183253520150)


End file.
